


Startling Realizations

by afteriwake



Series: Just A Little Bit [6]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:17:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amy finds out she has to wear glasses, much to her dismay, and it prompts her to realize that biologically she's older than her age suggests thanks to travels with the Doctor, and that in turn she's actually older than Sherlock. Depressed, she goes to his home where he not only proceeds to turn her opinion of her glasses around but actually makes quite the enjoyable suggestion as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Startling Realizations

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another story from an **imagineyourotp** prompt, this one being "Imagine Person A of your OTP needing glasses but is embarrassed by wearing them all the time so they just put them on for reading. Person B catches them with glasses on and is baffled by how well they suit them. Person B grabs Person A's glasses, putting them on and asking how good they look wearing them. Person A just comments that they can't see clearly and that Person B needs to move closer and closer until Person B's close enough to kiss Person A." I don't actually know French but I'm hoping the phrase I used at the end means what I am led to believe it means.

She stared at the case the optometrist had given her. Yes, she'd had headaches the last few weeks and yes, she realized she was having trouble reading things, but glasses? Really? She had hoped she could get contacts instead of glasses, but apparently she had a condition that when she tried to wear contacts they didn't work because they irritated her eyes too much. She'd have to suffer without her glasses for modeling shoots and she'd try very hard not to use them the rest of the time. She could just wear them for reading and maybe that would be okay.

It made her feel embarrassed. She was young! How could her vision have gotten so messed up? And then it hit her. While everyone else assumed she was only in her early thirties, she'd spent a lot of time traveling with the Doctor before he had dropped her and Rory back off in London nearly three years ago. If she figured it correctly, it had been ten years of traveling, off and on by everyone else's recollection, but she'd been through more than ten years with him. More like fifteen, considering the very long honeymoon she and Rory had had. She was really in her mid to late thirties, biologically. And that thought depressed her more than she thought it would. 

She made her way to Sherlock's home with a heavy heart. The thought that she was biologically older than her boyfriend was quite depressing. She opened the door and made her way up to the sitting room to find both Sherlock and John there, poring over some files. “I see we have a case,” she said, giving them a small smile. Good. This was something to distract her.

“It's more like you two have a case today because I have to get going,” John said with a grin. “I have the short shift at the clinic, but then I have paperwork to do afterward so it's going to be a long night. But I made notes on what I was able to go through for you so you don't have to sit here and read all this.” He lifted up a notepad. “It's all here for you, Amy.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Have fun at work.”

“Don't let him go all day without eating,” John said as he came over and gave Amy a quick hug before going to his jacket. “He refused to eat breakfast this morning.”

“Sherlock, I'm going to make you eat whether you want to or not,” Amy said with an amused grin, crossing her arms.

“I'll eat when I've gotten farther on this case,” he said dismissively, not lifting his head up from what he was reading. “This is one of the complicated ones.”

“Your favorite,” Amy said.

“He's being stubborn,” John said. “I'll see you both later tonight. Call me if you have a break in the case?”

“Of course,” Sherlock said, waving his hand slightly.

John shook his head. “Good luck, Amy. I think you're going to need it.”

“I think I am too,” she said. “See you later.”

“See you,” he replied, and then he was gone.

Amy walked over to the table, setting her purse down on one of the few parts not covered with papers. “So I take it this isn't a murder we're looking at.”

“Actually, it is. Several of them. Lestrade thinks we might have a serial killer on our hands.” He looked away from what he was reading, then looked around for a moment before picking up a file and handing it to her. “I think this is from the third crime scene. John only went through details of the first two.”

She set it to the side and picked up the notepad John had held up. “Let me read through this first.”

“As you wish.” He turned back to his papers and she looked at her purse, debating whether she wanted to use her glasses or not. She wasn't looking forward to another raging headache if she didn't, so with a slight sigh she reached into her purse and pulled out the glasses case. It made a click as she opened it and Sherlock looked up. “What are those?” he asked as she pulled her glasses out.

“My glasses,” she said glumly. “My body is falling apart.”

“You still appear to be quite young and fit,” he said with a frown.

“Technically I'm thirty-three, but biologically I'm older,” she said with a sigh, putting her glasses on. “Ten years of traveling with the Doctor off and on. I aged even though he'd bring me back right near the time when I left. So I'm actually just about your age or slightly older than you, or at least my body is.”

Sherlock appeared to think about it for a moment. “But only by two years or so.”

“Still. Older. And now I have to wear these stupid glasses.”

“I don't know. You look quite fetching in them,” he said after a moment. “You look more dignified. More mature.”

“Not exactly things you want to tell your girlfriend when she's freaking out about the fact she's older than you,” she said with a mild glare. “Those are things you say to an old woman.”

“No old woman wants to be called mature,” he said. “They know they are. And is it so bad to be called dignified?”

“Yes, it is.” Then she sighed. “I'm sorry. I'm dumping this all on you. It's something I just have to work through, I guess.”

“Let me see them,” he said.

“See what? My glasses?” He nodded, and she took them off and handed them to him.

He looked at them for a moment. “They really aren't that bad. I think they frame your face quite well.”

“Well, I did pick out something nice,” she conceded.

“I think I would look quite good with glasses on,” he said.

“Really?” she asked, wearing a slight smile on her face. “I'd like to see you with some on, I think.”

“I can try yours on.”

“Go ahead.” She watched him put the glasses on and blink slightly. “I told you my vision was bad.”

“No wonder you had headaches all the time,” he said. Then he looked at her. “How do I look?”

“I can't see really well, as you can guess,” she said, her smile widening. “Come closer.”

He leaned forward more. “Better?”

“Nope. Still can't see clearly.” She felt her grin widening. “Closer, Sherlock.”

He moved his chair over more. “Close enough?”

“Not yet,” she said. “Just lean over a little more.”

He leaned over more. “Now can you see?”

“Yeah.” She leaned in and kissed him softly, and she felt him kiss her back after a moment. Then she pulled away and plucked her glasses off his face before he pulled away again. “You actually do look quite sexy with glasses on,” she said, putting her glasses back on her face.

“I should have told you you look sexy from the outset,” he said.

“Yeah, that would have been better,” she said with a grin.

“You do, though. I think you should wear them all the time. I'll just have to be very careful and remember to set them aside next time I take you to bed.”

“Worried you might break my glasses if we make mad passionate love?” she asked with a smirk.

“Well, if I do I'll replace them,” he said with a slight shrug.

“You must really like the glasses.”

“It reminds me of a fantasy I had when I first discovered an interest in women, involving a tutor I had,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow. “You had a sexy teacher fantasy when you were growing up? _This_ I want to hear about.”

“Perhaps we can get into it another time,” he said, picking up the file he'd been reading. “We have a case, remember?”

“No getting out of this one, Sherlock. Spill, now, or you get to sleep alone for the very near future.”

He sighed. “When I was thirteen my mother called in a tutor to teach me French, because I was not picking the language up as well as she would have liked. Mademoiselle Barrineu used to wear very tight sweaters and very tight skirts, and her hair was always pulled up in a chignon. And she also wore glasses, which she would take off every once in a while to chew the ends of. I was always quite fascinated by that.”

“What happened to her?” Amy asked.

“My mother noticed my French was still abysmal after six months, put two and two together and got me a male tutor,” he said with another sigh.

“Next time I feel like doing some roleplaying I know exactly what I'm doing,” she said with a grin.

He looked at her. “You would actually let that fantasy play out?” he asked.

She nodded. “And I know French. That would make it even better.”

“Really,” he said, slightly wide-eyed.

“So long as you fulfill one of my fantasies, yeah, I'd do that for you.” She picked up the notepad. “And trust me, mine aren't all that embarrassing.”

“Example?” he asked.

“Something involving handcuffs and blindfolds and me being in complete control,” she said.

“I have handcuffs,” he said slowly. “And doubtless you can use my scarf as a blindfold.”

“Huh. If I'd known it would be this easy I would have brought it up ages ago,” she said thoughtfully. “I’m honestly surprised I waited this long, considering we’ve been together for just about four months.”

He looked at her for a moment, then set down the file he had been reading. Then he plucked the notebook from her hands and set it back down on the table. “The case can wait,” he said.

She gave him an amused grin. “Which one are we playing out?”

“Yours. However, I would very much like to hear your French.”

“Good thing I remember all the naughty stuff I learned how to say,” she said with a chuckle as she stood up. Then she moved towards his bedroom, pausing to crook a finger at him. “Je veux faire l'amour avec toi.” A wide grin spread on his face as he stood up and followed her, and she had to resist the urge to laugh. Somehow he had made her feel better about the glasses, which she had not thought that would be possible, and as an added bonus she got to fulfill one of her fantasies. All in all this was turning out to be a better day than anticipated.


End file.
